


Gold in the Sunlight

by aikiakane



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Female Protagonist, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, Fluff, Gen, Non-Chronological, Post-Patch 5.3: Reflections in Crystal, Slow Burn, Title from a Florence + the Machine Song
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26574853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aikiakane/pseuds/aikiakane
Summary: A collection of stories inspired by the prompts from EmetWol Week 2020. While they do belong to an overarching story, these are too small to take up space on their own.
Relationships: Azem/Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch, Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Original Character(s), Solus zos Galvus | Emet-Selch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 5





	1. Preface / Disclaimer

I'll apologize in advance for the stories not going up directly during EmetWoL week this year (2020), but I didn't really start until it was nearly over. I think it's less about the deadline and more about actually committing to completion. I haven't written very much in quite some time, so I'm sorry if I'm a bit rusty. 

Thanks go to my Twitter friends who encouraged me to do this. 

A few bits of information before jumping into the stories themselves:

The stories are not in chronological order. There are no set chapter lengths, because some prompts lend to longer prose. That's just how it is.  
There will be some pre-Sundering as well as Shadowbringers content.  
Assume everything is written through a post 5.3 spoiler lens. You have been warned.  
I will not be held accountable for any feelings you may feel along the way. Even good feelings. Those are yours to handle.

Ezrela Soleil is the WoL for this story. She is my main character while playing FFXIV. She is a Duskwight Elezen in her mid 20s.  
Astraea is her unsundered self, a.k.a. my timeline's Azem.  
I don't plan on going into much detail about either aspect's personal history unless asked, in which case I'll write up a small biography for them.

Any similarities between my character and others is purely coincidental. 

I will NOT be apologizing for the potentially excessive use of Florence + the Machine song lyrics for titles. I'm in love with her and there's nothing anyone can do to stop that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _This is a gift it comes with a price_  
>  _Who is the lamb and who is the knife_  
>  _Midas is king and he holds me so tight_  
>  _And turns me to gold in the sunlight_  
>  "Rabbit Heart" - Florence + the Machine


	2. Shadow of Your Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezrela takes some time to re-examine the Ronkan ruins and ends up with an unexpected assistant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EmetWoL Week, Day One: Dark / Light
> 
> This takes place after defeating the Lightwarden in the Qitana Ravel, but before the WoL and the Scions make their trip back to Amh Araeng. It's slightly canon-divergent, but who's counting.

Night was beginning to fall by the time Ezrela had said her many thanks and farewells to the Viis of Fanow. Her companions, the Scions, had already left the Greatwood to reconvene with the Exarch, leaving her behind. And while she would eventually return to the gleaming Crystarium, Ezrela had a curiosity to sate first. Following the path she'd taken once before, the Elezen moved slowly through the thick forest of Rak'Tika to reenter the Qitana Ravel for a closer inpection. The well preserved mural within called to her, like the edge of a memory she shouldn't have. 

The air was calm and cool, providing much needed relief to the once light-trodden area. With the Lightwarden and its minions defeated, she knew there shouldn't be any lingering foes. Ezrela kept her staff close at hand, while her cautious steps echoed through the stone halls in a delicate rhythm. With night now retuned, the Ravel had been bathed in an inky-dark shadow, making it difficult to see too far ahead. 

After a few moments of wandering alone, Ezrela began to hear a slow, muffled scuffling sound moving toward her from deeper within the ruins. She took a long, deep breath, then readied her staff in front of her body to prepare for danger. The sound grew steadier by the minute, until it abruptly stopped in front of her, just out of spells' reach. 

"Well now, what do we have here," a voice chuckled from the dark. "A Hero alone in the darkness in an abandoned temple? Whatever for?" 

Ezrela sighed and relaxed. "Emet-Selch. I could ask the same of you."

A flame rose from the darkness, nestled in the Ascian's outstretched hand, illuminating the gap between them. A half-drawn smile slid across his face as he studied the dark-haired Elezen. "Yes, well, I did tell you I'd be watching. You genuinely interest me, Hero, so I followed you to see what trouble you'd stir up." 

"I suppose I should thank you for the illumination then," she said, stepping forward. "I'm not entirely sure what I would have done for light otherwise." 

"Well, well, there's some irony in that. An Ascian bearing a torch for the Warrior of Light," his tenor voice filled the hall. "I suppose I'll just have to go along with you." 

Ezrela shrugged. "That could actually be useful right about now," she paused. "I'm going down to the chamber with the murals to copy them into my field journal. You talked about them earlier, but I wouldn't mind the company ..."

Emet-Selch bowed, and motioned forward with his free hand for her to lead the way. "It's quite wonderful of you to show more than a passing interest at my lost history, Hero. Not many would take the time to study and learn from their enemies in this way." 

Ezrela nodded slightly then continued onward, the Ascian following a step behind, contemplating her motives in silence. After a few moments, she turned the corner into the mural's chamber, then stopped to face the central painting. Emet-Selch stopped a half-step beside her, raising his hand toward the well-preserved wall. Rather than study the art, he turned his attention to the woman beside him. She wasn't what he expected a Warrior of Light to look like. Instead of exuding strength, she seemed delicate and willowy, with dark, loosely plaited hair framing her angular, pale face. The flame from his hand caused her mismatched blue-and-green eyes to glisten ever-so subtly. She seemed so familiar in her posture and voice, but the Ascian couldn't quite figure out why.

He didn't even notice that she'd pulled out a rather wide leather-bound book and had already begun to recreate the murals into it. Nearly two hours had passed in relative silence as she worked, with only the faint crackle of flame and scratching of lead on paper to fill the air. Finally, she finished and tucked away her tools into the large satchel at her side. 

Ezrela stretched her arms far above her head with a satisfied sigh, then looked toward her silent companion. Her brow furrowed slightly as she noticed his stare. "Emet-Selch?"

"Ah, yes? Were you saying something, Hero? Should I move the flame to better light the murals?" 

She shook her head. "No, I've already finished my sketches. But ..." she hesitated. "Could you not call me that? Everyone always calls me something; Hero, Warrior, Champion ... but never do they call me by name." 

His golden eyes widened as he raised a brow. "You are asking for me to be more familiar with you, yes?" Emet-Selch cradled his chin in hand for a moment. "Intriguing. But it would not do for your Scion accomplices to think something has gone awry between us. I shall reserve use of your name for when they are not around. In return, you may shorten my title to "Emet", if you like." 

"Thank you," she said, a smile blossoming across her face. "It seems a childish request, I know. But I felt - if it had to be anyone - you'd take me seriously."

Gesturing toward the long hall, Emet-Selch bowed briefly, then winked with a devilish grin. "Well then, Ezrela, I shall escort you back to the safety of the Crystarium, ere your companions think you've fallen into dire straits. It is, after all, quite late." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_  
>  _You left me in the dark_  
>  _No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_  
>  _In the shadow of your heart_  
>  "Cosmic Love" - Florence + the Machine


	3. Ocean in Our Arms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After heading into Eulmore to liberate its citizens from Vauthry's tyranny, Ezrela is forced to rest while the Scions and people of the First repair the Ladder into Upper Kholusia. Calm winds on the Kholusian coast help break down more barriers between herself and her Ascian companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EmetWoL Week, Day Two: Ocean / Rain

The rays of unnatural Light hit the cresting waves from every direction, causing tiny rainbows to emerge with every crash onto the stony shore. High overhead, clouds of pastel hues billowed and shifted in the breeze. Though she was far from the flurry of activity moving from the dockyard to the indescribably massive Ladder, Ezrela could still see the movement of supplies from her newfound perch on the sandbar. The locals called this inlet "Whisperwind Cove", and she had found it a fitting place to sulk.

Initially, Ezrela had wanted to help in the repair of the Ladder, but was quickly turned away from even the simplest of tasks by the Scions and the newly freed Eulmorans. After several attempts to assist discreetly and being scolded for it, she had rode off in search of a place to indirectly watch the commotion. Several boulders peeked above the waterline at just the right height for her to sit with her feet dangling in the water, wordlessly coaxing her to remove her boots and enjoy the soft waves on her skin. Leaning back into the boulder, she lightly closed her eyes and relaxed to the sound of wind and waves.

After some time, she felt a gentle prodding poke in the middle of her forehead. Confused, Ezrela's eyes slowly flitted open to see a gloved hand reaching down to her face. Training her gaze upward, she was surprised to see Emet-Selch with a bemused smirk plastered on his lips.

"Do you always fall asleep in the open, or is today a special occasion?"

"Nice to see you too, Emet," she replied sleepily. "How did you even know where I was? And why are you poking my face?"

The Ascian slowly lowered his hand as he stepped back and shrugged. "I was endlessly bored watching the Eulmorans scurry about, and none of the Scions I'd asked knew where you were. So," he gestured wildly, "I started looking for your aether and found you. Poking your face seemed the least invasive way to rouse you from a nap, I suppose."

She grinned. "Missed me that much, hmm? Did they tell you _why_ I was nowhere to be found?" 

"Not really. Some such nonsense about their work "not being important enough" for you to bother with, I presume." 

Ezrela slid off the boulder, setting her boots down where she'd been sitting. "Not in those exact words, but yes. They kept telling me to "conserve my strength for the fight ahead" and nonsense like that. Really I think they just didn't want me underfoot so they could talk without fear of being overheard." 

"And you're nothing if not _compliant_ with their wishes, so of course you ran off to pout," he grinned. 

"I'm not pouting." 

"If you say so, Ezrela, dear. But running off out of view of your Scion keepers? Now that's just so unlike you." 

Turning her attention from Emet-Selch, Ezrela began walking around the sandbar, straying from the dry, smooth rocks to splash around within the ankle-deep water. After a moment, an idea crept into her mind with a mischievous smirk. She slowly knelt down, paying no mind to the hem of her robes becoming drenched in the process, then cupped her hands together just under the surface of the water, keeping her face down as if to study the rocks below. 

Unable to fight his curiosity, the Ascian stepped closer, bending down toward the water as well. As soon as he'd stepped within her view, Ezrela rushed her cupped hands upward, sending a spray of cool, salty water directly at Emet's unsuspecting face. Her eyes gazed upwards as his expression went from a questioning glance to a surprised gape as the water hit. She tried -and failed- to fight back a high-pitched giggle. 

"Y-you ... sneaky little girl! Whatever did you do that for," he muttered, wiping his face clean with a handkerchief pulled quickly from the breast-pocket of his long robe. He carelessly tossed it toward the nearby boulder, but the wind caught the small cloth and sent it straight into the water between them. 

"Well," she laughed. "You did say you were "endlessly bored", so I thought I would liven things up. Maybe even get you to relax a little instead of skulking around with that furrowed brow all the time."

He raised his eyebrow. "I do not skulk." 

"Yes, yes. You merely traipse around and observe. But do you ever just ... I don't know, sit back and have some sort of fun?" 

"One such as myself doesn't have time for fun." 

"That's too bad. I for one, think right now is as good a time as either one of us is getting for fun. Come on, Emet ... you can play, too. I won't tell!"

He rolled his eyes and mumbled out a response too soft to hear over Ezrela's melodic laughter. He watched as she knelt down again, but this time Emet stepped back just out of her reach. She raised her hands to splash him, but his positioning caused her to overcompensate. Quickly realizing her error, it was too late to catch herself before falling face first into the shallow water, drenching herself in the process. He had turned the tables, and he let out a deep roll of laughter in spite of himself. For a moment, he let her struggle to stand as she kept sliding about in the wet, pebbled shoreline, but eventually held out a hand to steady her.

After the shock of surprise wore off, Ezrela looked up to his outstretched hand. She quickly grabbed it, then tugged forward, toppling Emet from his feet to join her in the surf. More laughter erupted from the two of them as they slowly sat up, not bothering to leave the shallows; neither paid attention to their hands still clasped between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Say my name_  
>  _And every color illuminates_  
>  _We are shining_  
>  _And we will never be afraid again_  
>  _And when we come for you_  
>  _We dressed up all in blue_  
>  _With the ocean in our arms_  
>  _Kissing eyes and kissing palms_  
>  "Spectrum" - Florence + the Machine


	4. Stuck in Your Head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly appointed Emet-Selch tries to avoid his friends to focus on work, only to have all his best-laid plans put to ruin by feelings he didn't even know he had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EmetWoL Week, Day Three: I knew you once upon a time / Kiss
> 
> This takes place pre-Sundering, shortly after Hades accepts the title of Emet-Selch.
> 
> As noted in the preface, Astraea is my version of Azem/pre-sundering WoL.

As the sun sank ever lower on the horizon, Hades still labored to organize his cartons of research papers and project proposals into some semblance of order within his newly acquired office. It had been less than two days since the public announcement had been made, and he had taken every effort to fill the time with busy work as to not prompt any idea that he had 'time to spare for frivolity'. Keeping Hythlodaeus at bay was hard enough on its own, as his happy-go-lucky friend was always lurking somewhere nearby to cause some minor havoc in Hades' life. The true test now, however, was how to keep their mutual, capricious friend far from the calm of his workspace. He hadn't told her of his appointment to the Seat of the Architect, of course; the news would spread like a wildfire across the city on its own.

Finally satisfied with his paperwork's arrangement, Hades sat in the overstuffed chair at his desk to finally take in all of his surroundings. The office of Emet-Selch wasn't overly decorated with opulent things as his predecessor had been a man of minimal distractions. Flanking either side of the large desk were bookshelves filled with numerous tomes on which the Convocation's spellworks had been based. Two seats faced him for conferencing, smaller but no less comfortable than his own. Nearest to the door was a large congenial sitting space, complete with a fireplace and tables. On the opposite side of the room, just beyond a pair of folding doors, was a rather large worktable surrounded by six stools. The workspace was completed by cabinetry on all walls, filled with drafting equipment, glassware, and other instruments of research. This was certainly a space he could call his own, after having spent so long sharing the overly-loud workrooms with other students in the Akadaemia. _The Architect's office exuded calm and mindfulness_ , Hades mused, setting his red mask aside and closing his eyes briefly.

Of course, the moment he began to relax, a pounding noise echoed from the large double doors. Hades sighed heavily, and waited a few moments before casually walking across the room. He furrowed his brow while walking, trying to puzzle out who would bother him so late in the day. Of course, had it been Hythlodaeus, the door would have swung open without ceremony.

The knock came again, louder and more insistent this time. Emet-Selch covered his face with his palm and groaned. "Yes, yes. Patience. I'm on my way."

Hades hesitantly pulled open one side of the heavy double doors, and looked out. Instead of a familiar face (or several, as the Convocation had said they would like to celebrate with him as well, despite his reluctance), he was greeted by a slim pair of arms bearing up a literal tower of roses in various shades of red and yellow. He stood completely silent and confused until a melodic giggle emerged from the walking partition of flowers.

"Finally," the voice exclaimed. "I thought you would never answer the door. This isn't the easiest bouquet to carry across the city, you know! May I come in now?"

"I suppose ... if you must, I mean," came his retort, as Hades shifted slightly to let his visitor in.

"Wonderful! It'll be nice to set these down. Don't worry, I'll have these all arranged soon enough for you. I just need to borrow your worktable for a minute."

"What do you mean arranged for me?"

Shutting the door behind them, Hades knew instantly that this was the sort of havoc he had been trying to avoid. But now it was too late. How Astraea had been allowed up the lifts to his office was almost beyond him; it had to be Hythlo's doing, to allow their mutual friend access after hours to the Hall of the Architect. He watched her as she worked, gleefully humming to herself as she rested the bundled roses onto the table with care. Once they were settled, Astraea slipped her ivory mask off, and set it gingerly on an open counter. The hood of her robes had long since fallen backwards, revealing a cascade of soft, inky curls that bounced across her shoulders as she moved. Nodding to herself, the young woman lifted a satchel off her shoulder, and began rummaging until she'd pulled out a tall, pearlescent crystal. Astraea turned slightly, her watery-blue eyes glinting in the soft light. She grasped the crystal in her hands, holding it out for Hades to inspect while she explained.

"I wanted to give you a welcoming gift for your new appointment as Emet-Selch, but I really didn't know what would be something you'd like. We both know I'm horrible at creating my own concepts. And gifting something really needs to be personal, right? So I had Hythlo help me create a concept, and now I'm going to put it into motion."

"This isn't going to be like the exploding glitter book that he gifted me on my birthday, is it? Because I'm still finding glitter in the folds of all my robes."

She shook her head and smiled. "This is far better. But you have to trust that I can do this, and not help, okay?"

"What do you mean, not hel-"

Before he could finish his thoughts, Astraea took a deep breath, closing her eyes and pulling the crystal back against her body. After a moment, it began to glow, sending diffused rainbow beams of light dancing across the room. Each beam slowly sank to the floor, coalescing into bright pockets of aetheric light before fading into solid form. Eventually, the crystal in her hands dimmed, and she opened her eyes. With a triumphant cheer, she put the crystal aside, hurrying around the room to admire her handiwork. Each coalesced form had turned into tall, crystalline vases cradled in golden overlays that branched out like leaves.

Hades looked around in genuine surprise, a single eyebrow cocked upward while the tiniest smile crept across his face. He gingerly picked up one of the creations closest to him, and turned it in his hands to inspect its structure.

"This looks like the aetheryte outside! Even the curvature of the metal blooming is the same."

She nodded. "I know you can see it from the window, but I thought it was such a pretty idea to fill it with roses. And seeing as I can't fill an actual aetheryte with roses, I wanted to make these. And we can put them everywhere; I made enough for every surface." 

Sure enough, while he marveled at the design she'd brought forth, Astraea quickly filled each one with an equal amount of the showy red and yellow blooms and began her strategic placement for each vase: one for each side table, one for each bookcase, two for Hades' desk, two for the fireplace mantle, and the rest spread intermittently across the worktable and cabinetry. When she was done, only one vase still sat empty; the one Hades still held.

He looked around, taken aback by the visual brightness and the subtle fragrance now permeating the once-minimalist room, a strange warmth rushing across his cheeks. He struggled to find his thoughts, choosing instead to look at his companion with a confused smile.

"And where does this one belong then?"

"I'm sure we can find a place for it." Gingerly, she pulled the vase from his hands and set it down beside the still-unused roses. "So, was it a good surprise?"

Hades reached out to pull his companion closer, taking her hands in his own. He studied her face quietly; her bright smile taking up so much of his thoughts that he didn't answer her right away. Instead, he leaned toward her, and impulsively pressed his lips gently to her forehead. 

Astraea blushed brightly, then leaned back on her heels to raise her face to meet his. With one swift motion, she stood up on her toes and met him with a kiss of her own, catching his mouth with hers. Words could come later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _There is love in your body but you can't get it out_  
>  _It gets stuck in your head, won't come out of your mouth_  
>  _Sticks to your tongue and it shows on your face_  
>  _That the sweetest of words have the bitterest taste_  
>  "Hardest of Hearts" - Florence + the Machine
> 
> (Color Symbolism: Red + Yellow Roses = Joy, happiness and excitement)


End file.
